


Resident Evil What If: Pet American

by SParkie96



Series: Resident Evil Requests [4]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Bondage and Discipline, Dubious Consent, F/M, Pegging, Rape/Non-con Elements, Resident Evil Damnation - Freeform, Torture, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Whipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:08:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23971357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SParkie96/pseuds/SParkie96
Summary: Things don't go quite as planned after the attack on the Capital. Leon and Sasha end up getting separated, Sasha goes missing and Leon is captured by Svetlana's forces. Svetlana decides to not only try and get answers out of Leon, but decides to have a little fun with her new pet. Rated M for Violence, Language, Sexual Situations and Mature Themes.(Set during Resident Evil Damnation and part of my "What If?" Series)
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Svetlana Belikova
Series: Resident Evil Requests [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1315592
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	1. Stripped

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I hope everyone is hanging in there and doing well. Quarantine has been pretty crazy and despite the situation, I'm still busy with WIPs and other writing pieces. 
> 
> That being said, this fic was based off of several requests, ideas and, of course, Resident Evil Damnation. I feel like Svetlana is a severely underrated villain. This fic is also going to be multi-chaptered with the possibility of an Omegaverse Version coming soon (for those Omegaverse Fans). There are some triggering themes, as with most RE Pieces, so please mind the tags.

The whole thing was still blurry in his mind, but Leon was pretty sure he and Buddy, or Sasha, he still wasn’t sure what to call the man, had lost or had gotten separated when Svetlana had sent the tyrants to track them. They had managed to fight and kill one of them, but Leon wasn’t sure what had happened to the other two. He remembered running out of ammo, and protecting Sasha, but then...he could vaguely remember clouds of smoke...and then two giants charging toward them. 

Or did the smoke happen after they charged them? He still wasn’t quite sure. 

What he was sure of was that this quaint little cell wasn’t his hotel room nor was it anywhere close to anything he was familiar with. And he was pretty sure his hotel didn’t have armed guards in front of the door. Nor did he remember hotel staff being allowed to take an occupant’s vest, gloves, boots and jacket...but hey, at least he got complementary handcuffs.

He heard someone shout to another person in Slavic, or maybe it was Russian? He wasn’t too sure considering how many languages existed in this small area alone. The female voice sounded familiar as the guards spoke with her. He could only catch a few words, one of which was clearly American, but with “ski” or something on the end of it. Again, he wasn’t sure. 

“Comfortable?” The female voice asked, Svetlana finally appearing in front of his cell, standing before him in a buttoned up black suit jacket, dress pants, and black pumps. She didn’t wear a dress shirt under the jacket, or a bra, so the agent could see down her jacket, which had been unbuttoned down to just under her breasts, the rest luckily covered. 

Leon sat up on the cot, giving a small shrug, “Not really. Like sleeping on a rock…” He said, only half-joking, “So, you caught me...and I’m still alive.” 

Svetlana gave a nod, reaching into her suit pocket and pulling out a thin plastic card...his work ID with his real name and the organization he worked for printed on it. He cursed, Svetlana chuckling at that. 

“Only because it'll start a war with your country...well, until you tell me why they sent you." She chuckled, throwing the card down at his feet, "Then it might come out that it wasn't me trying to incite a war." 

“Like I would tell you anything.” Leon replied. 

“You will.” Svetlana said, “Especially if you want things to go smoothly for you.” 

Leon merely relaxed against the wall, brow raised skeptically and leg crossed over the other, “And what makes you think I’ll talk?” he asked, genuinely curious. 

“I have my ways.” Svetlana simply said, “Don’t want to give too much away just yet.” 

She then turned to the guards, motioning for the one to do something, but Leon was again lost. A guard gave her a skeptical look, but gave a salute before stepping forward. He pulled the key to Leon’s cell from his pocket, unlocking the door before stepping aside, Svetlana stepping inside. Leon didn’t move, watching her instead, as though anticipating an attack or something along those lines. 

What he wasn’t anticipating was for the President to sit on the bed next to him. He watched her cautiously, noticing that she sort of did the same, flinching a bit when she reached up and brushed his hair out of his face. Leon furrowed his brows even deeper at that, wholly confused as she seemed to look over his features. The hand not holding his hair back cupped his chin, gently turning his head from side to side, studying him. 

“<They certainly don’t make them like this anymore.>” She said in Russian, gently letting him go, “<Have him brought upstairs to my office. Clean him up, but don’t dress him.>” 

The soldiers gave a nod, doing as they were told. Soldiers stormed his cell, Svetlana staying in her seat as she watched the men take Leon away. Her calm smile never faltered as she watched the American thrash and fight in their grasps. That’s all the self-proclaimed “Greatest Nation in the World” sent? A lone American Agent? It was almost insulting. Leon Scott Kennedy, according to both his work ID and his State Driver’s License, was supposedly this “DSO’s” Chief Agent, but had no back-up that they knew of. 

According to the intel that they had found on the SD Card of a damaged communicator in the city’s underground tunnels, as well as the belongings that they had found in the man’s hotel room, he was meeting with an informant who had had information on the BOWs that Svetlana was using. After some more research and investigation, said informant met his end at the claws of a “Licker” that the Freedom Fighters had been controlling. 

She chuckled and shook her head at the thought. Those dumb Freedom Fighters had sabotaged themselves by partaking in the usage of the creatures and the parasites. This Leon person had been so close to discovering the truth and had he done so, Svetlana would have been unseated from her position and they would have gotten what they had wanted anyway.

Her advisor approached her, telling her that the Russian Government had called, saying that the Americans were looking for a “Suspect” who had last been seen in the Eastern Slav Republic. He explained that the United States had said that the suspect was this “Leon” and they needed to send in agents to come and apprehend this man. 

“Hmph...lying through their teeth, like typical American Snakes do.” Svetlana said, “Tell the Russian Government that we have not seen and / or heard of such a character. And even if we had, we would be more than a bit reluctant to hand over this man, especially with everything that has been occurring here…” She winked at the man, “...but we’ll keep an eye out for him.” 

Her advisor bowed, “Yes, Madam President.”

* * *

Leon struggled as the men took him to the prison’s showers, tearing his clothes off of his form despite his protests. Before they could strip him of his jeans, he brought a knee up and kneed a man in the groin, making him double over in pain. He then threw his head backward into the face of one of the guards holding his arms, hearing the satisfying sounds of cartilage snapping and bone breaking under the sudden pressure of a skull colliding with another. The man screamed in pain, his companion struggling to get a better grip on Leon’s arms. 

Leon let out a sort of half grunt half roar as he threw his elbow back next, catching said companion in the throat. The man let go, choking and clutching at his throat as he tried to catch the breath that he had suddenly lost. The remaining guards wrestled to get Leon “back under control”. One brought out a stun baton before bringing it down onto Leon’s bare skin, the agent yelling out at both the blunt force and the stinging feeling of electricity coursing through him. 

The sensation was somehow painful and numbing at the same time, and the soldier wasn’t letting up, continuing to hit him and sending jolt after jolt of electricity coursing through Leon’s form. He felt a wet sensation between his legs, blushing a bright red as he realized what had just happened. The men laughed around him, making fun of him in their own language and making him flush an even deeper shade of red in embarrassment. 

“<The American Pig pissed himself!>” One soldier mocked. 

“<That’s what he gets for being a cocky little shit.>” Their leader said, “<Disgusting Pig...now we need to clean that up…>” 

Leon huffed as he laid with his cheek flush against the tiled floor, breathing heavily as they finally let up with the stun baton. Mainly because they were too busy laughing at him and mocking him. He was still recovering from the aftershocks when they brought him to his feet once more, Leon feeling like his knees were made of gelatine and his limbs were nothing but dead-gelatinous-weight. 

He was a bit more compliant this time around as they finished stripping him, getting the shower started before roughing scrubbing at him with the bar of soap and a rag. The soap wasn’t too terribly smelling, but he supposed it was better than the lingering stench of blood, sweat, dirt and now piss. That and this was a prison, or some sort of dungeon, and he was a prisoner, so he wasn’t expecting too much “luxury” from his captors.

He was more worried about what else they had managed to find out about him. 

After they were finished, they had dried him down with a raggedy towel, but they seemingly couldn’t be bothered to redress him. Or they had been commanded not to as they dragged him into an elevator and ascended the floors, dragging to who the hell knew where. He shivered, hating how exposed he was and hating how the floor felt bone-chillingly cold under his feet. Either way, no matter how this went, Leon probably wasn’t going to like how this all turned out in the end. 

He avoided eye-contact with her men as they marched down the corridors, but he couldn’t fight the blush on his cheeks. Internally, he felt absolutely exposed, vulnerable and embarrassed. The whistles, catcalls, and muttering / whispering of the Capital’s Staff dealt blows to his already fragile self-esteem. He couldn’t even cover himself, his arms held in iron grips. Why? What was the point of all of this? Shame? Embarrassment? Did they get off on humiliating him? Was this supposed to send a message? 

All of this, and he couldn’t even imagine what the “main event” would be. 


	2. Good Boy

Svetlana and her assistant took their personal elevator back up to the top floor. Once the office was set back into place, the shutters rose, letting the natural light of day bleed through the curtains once more. She sat at her desk, her assistant already reaching for the phone and calling back the Russian Government to let them know what was going on. She merely listened, thinking of a strategy for how they could benefit from the American’s capture. 

Perhaps, after she managed to pull some information from him, she could throw him and his convoluted country under the metaphorical bus. It’s not like she didn’t have proof, it was a former CIA Agent and a handful of US Government Officials who had worked with her to get a hold of the Las Plagas Parasite as well as helped her build the underground lab. It was several politicians who had helped fund all of this, just for oil profits.

And no doubt, their agent friend knew about this. Probably sent to spy on her progress with the experiments while pretending to work with the Freedom Fighters. Or steal back the advanced strain of it like Ada Wong stole one, along with a good chunk of information. Svetlana would probably twist Leon’s arm a bit and get him on film “admitting” to his country’s involvement. 

Assuming they weren’t already formulating propaganda back home and labeling this American Swine a terrorist...like they were trying to peddle to the Russians. 

There was a sharp knock on the door of the office, just in time too, her advisor hanging up the phone and letting their visitors in. The doors open, a group of soldiers come in with Leon at the center of them all. The brunette kept his eyes downward, his face flushed a tomato red color as he was pushed forward and pushed inside. 

“<Thank you.>” She said to the soldiers, “<I’ll take over from here. You are all dismissed.>” She commanded, even looking to her advisor. 

The Advisor gave her an uncertain look, “<Are you sure, Madam President?>” 

She gave a nod, scanning over Leon’s bare form with a smile, “<I can handle the American. Now, go.>” 

The Advisor bowed, following the soldiers out of the room. Leon watched them go, listening with dread as the doors closed behind him. It felt like his heart sank into his stomach at the loud sound before he turned his full attention to the woman before him. He swallowed down a nervous breath as she approached him. He didn’t know why, but she was quite intimidating, despite her shorter height and smaller stature. She was a couple inches taller than Ada and a bit broader in the shoulders. In a way, she sort of reminded Leon of the mercenary...except Ada didn’t make his stomach churn with uneasiness. 

It probably didn’t help that he was naked before the woman who had kicked his ass. 

Her hand found his chin, cupping it and holding it roughly as she seemed to look him over again. He covered himself self-consciously, simply watching her with extreme caution, unsure of what she was going to do.  
  
“<Can you understand anything I’m saying?>” She asked in that language that he couldn’t quite place, seemingly doing so experimentally. 

He looked into her eyes, raising a brow, “I have no idea what you just said.” Leon admitted, “I don’t speak Slavic.” 

“Russian.” She corrected, “But I suppose that’s good to know...since your kind is so...particular about what languages you speak.” 

“I don’t very much care.” Leon admitted, “Speak in whatever language you want. It doesn’t bother me...unless you’re planning on doing something to me and talking about it in front of me...then I would very much like to know what you intend to do with me.” 

“You will find out.” Svetlana retorted, “But it all depends on how...chatty you’re feeling.”

“Not very,” Leon admitted, “Depending on what you’re about to ask me...and considering that it’s a bit drafty in here as well.” He added, motioning downward with his head and eyes at his current state of undress, "Maybe if I had some clothes…" 

"Why? You won't be needing them." Svetlana merely said, sitting on the edge of her desk, "Especially if you want to be able to get back home in one piece...assuming your country doesn't just abandon you here." 

Leon raised a brow, giving a dry chuckle, “You’ll be disappointed then, cause they probably are planning to do just that.” 

Svetlana looked into his eyes, narrowing her own as she seemed to search for...something in them, “You don’t seem at all surprised that they would.” 

“Cause I’m not.” Leon said, sitting down on the couch, ignoring the feeling of the leather against his bare ass, covering his crotch with his hands, “They would.” 

Svetlana cleared her throat, “Who told you you were allowed to sit down?” 

Leon looked up at her with a raised brow, “I’m tired.” 

“Get up.” Svetlana commanded, tapping her foot on the floor in front of her, “You can rest on your knees on the floor.” 

Leon scoffed, shaking his head and was about to stand, but she tutted at him, telling him to stay on his knees. Leon took a deep breath and stayed on his knees, sarcastically asking if she wanted him to crawl over to her as well. He regretted that, Svetlana chuckling and even encouraging the notion. Another annoyed sigh left him as he got down on his knees, doing as he was told. She looked down at him, watching him with a look of satisfaction. He couldn’t help the blush that painted his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, feeling his ears and neck heat up as well. This was fucking humiliating.

“Good boy.” She purred with a smile as Leon sat on his knees before her, wearing a pout as she pet his head, the agent ducking away from the touch. 

Leon sneered at that, but he didn’t get a chance to really protest, feeling her fingers tangle in his hair. A strong hand pulled at brown strands and lifted him higher on his knees. He grunted as she looked him over again, specifically at his lips. She loosened her grip on his hair, massaging his scalp with her nails. 

“...What shall I do with you?” She asked with a smile, Leon glaring up at her. 

“Let me go?” He suggested, hating how good her nails felt against his scalp. 

She merely laughed at that, Leon wincing as he felt the fingers tighten in his hair. He was only partially being serious,given the circumstances, and he honestly didn’t know what else to expect from giving a response like that. Especially to a ruthless dictator pretending to be a civil and compassionate diplomat. She finally had one of the people that had been meddling in her plans and held her at gunpoint kneeling at her feet...completely at her mercy. Why would she just let him go that easily? 

“Why should I, Little American?” She asked, “What do I get out of that? You’d just run away and either foil more of my plans or blather to that government of yours. Then they would come here, guns blazing, and then where would I be?” 

He hissed as she pulled particularly hard on his hair, pulling Leon up, his weight on his knees as he tried not to get knocked off balance. She prattled on, saying that she had worked hard to get where she was, and she wasn’t about to let some American helping the insurgent rats, and an enemy country, destroy all that hard work. He was probably some privileged brat who didn’t understand the first thing about working hard to get where he was today, like the government he worked for. Like the country he worked for. 

“How about I make you work?” She asked, letting go of his hair as they met eyes, Svetlana watching him…studying him carefully, “Show me how you got to where you are and maybe I’ll reward you. I highly doubt much work was needed to get to where you are now...especially with a face like that.” 

Leon sneered at her, giving a scoff, “And what do I get out of that?” He asked in a mocking tone, parroting what she had previously asked him. 

She slowly knelt in front of him, giving a seemingly sincere smile, but he obviously knew better. Snakes sometimes looked like they were harmless at first...right before they attacked their prey. A choked off sound escaped him as he felt sharp manicured nails and small but nimble fingers wrap around his testicles, a sharp exhalation of breath leaving him as he felt her squeeze threateningly. 

“I can show you what would happen if you didn’t obey me, if you would prefer?” She asked, Leon a tad disturbed at how nonchalantly she acted, considering her hand was on his balls and she was threatening castration. 

He grunted as she gave another squeeze, “No, thanks...I like my balls right where they are.” 

“Then I would suggest you start cooperating, Mr. Kennedy.” 

“You haven’t exactly been specific about what you wanted me to do…” 

“Why else would I have an admittedly attractive man stripped naked?” 

“...for viewing pleasure? So you can have me lounged out on your furniture like that chick from the Titanic?” Leon asked sarcastically, “I don’t know, I’m not a mind-reader.” 

“No, but you are starting to become quite infuriating.” Svetlana hummed, “But, I guess that’s a typical American for you. Are all of you this dim and oblivious?” 

“Glad to see that women are just as vague and confusing here t-” He was interrupted by a slap to the cheek, catching him off guard as stars danced in his field of vision. 

He was in a bit of a daze for a moment, unaware of Svetlana’s movements, oblivious to her stripping out of her pants and underwear, standing before him half-naked. He did manage to hear her mutter what he assumed were curses under her breath as well as a taunt about him “not feeling chatty”. He felt her fingers in the back of his hair once more as she stood before him, her crotch leveled with his face as Leon blinked the stars from his eyes. 

“Am I being specific enough now?” She asked, Leon wearing a bright red blush as blue eyes darted upward from her lower extremities to her own steely green gaze, “Or are you still not sure?” 

Leon felt like his brain was short-circuiting for a moment. He wasn’t totally confused or oblivious to what she wanted, but now wondering just what the fuck?! What brought this on? What was she aiming at by having him do this? Was this a power thing? Humiliation?

Brown locks had been pulled at roughly once more, “I’m waiting...or do I have to walk you through this? Because I was under the assumption that all American Men were obsessed with sex, no?” 

“Not all of us...but what the fuck is your aim he-?!” He was cut-off by her shoving his face against her. 

She let out a sigh that was a mix of annoyance and something else above him, rolling her eyes and telling him to put that mouth of his to better use. She had had enough small talk from him and didn’t have much time for any more lip. He had work to do now and she would be very busy thanks to him this afternoon, so he had better get started. 

“Unless you’d rather tell me some of your government’s secrets?” She offered, “We can do that instead.” 

There was a moment of silence, neither moving. And then, a chuckle and a surprised gasp left her as she felt him finally start moving, feeling his scruff against the insides of her thighs and his tongue against her lips. Leon really didn’t want to do this, but at the same time, he probably shouldn’t get too chatty about government business...not that he really knew much and he wasn’t about to sell her any secrets either. 

So, he guessed the alternative wasn’t too bad in comparison. 

She moaned, sitting on the edge of her desk, her leg draping itself over his shoulder and pulling him in closer as she began to slowly grind against his mouth, “I guess we’re not feeling chatty anymore, hm?” She asked, fingers playing with brown locks as she looked down to watch his tongue dip inside of her, “Very well.” 

He felt a moan leave his own throat, finding himself become aroused by the sounds she was making and her taste on his tongue. He shouldn’t have been getting off on this...but Christ, it had been too damn long since he had been with anyone other than his own hand and fingers and he had been too damned busy to find the time. And, again, this was better than trading secrets and then getting listed as a traitor to the United States. 

Assuming that didn’t happen when news got out about what was going on now. 

“How about I start teaching you some Russian, hm?” She asked in between moans, “Make you beg and listen as you struggle to get the words out. You’ll only get rewarded if you ask me or someone else something in Russian. Or, perhaps it would please me to watch you get confused when you’re told to do something. Give me an excuse to punish you more often…” 

For some reason, Leon very much liked the sound and idea of that. Or well, he didn’t know why the thought made him more aroused than before. She continued on, calling him a little American Whore, wondering if this was how he got his job. That a pretty face and beautiful body like his was meant to be under someone or on his knees, not out fighting wars. He liked the sound of that and the way she yanked at his hair, a sound that was a mix of a cry and a moan escaping him as she did so. 

He felt his cock bounce against his belly as he moved, fingering her and trying to bury his tongue impossibly deeper inside of her. He would occasionally suckle at her clit, the sound of her cries music to his ears, precum leaking from the head of his cock. He was painfully aroused, whining as she suggested sharing him with the Council of Elders. She was sure he would love them, and it had been a while since any of them had seen any action. They would love a piece of the trophy American. She asked if he would like that and he dumbly nodded. 

...Christ, he had issues. 

The door opened behind them, a man clearing his throat and apologizing for the interruption to the President. Leon’s head was roughly yanked backward by his hair, blue eyes glazed over with lust as her juices dribbled from his lips as he looked up with her, feeling a bit disappointed at being interrupted. She looked up at her assistant, wearing a look of annoyance and asking him what he wanted. 

“The Americans have gotten back to us and are currently on a video call with the Council...would you like me to add you to the call?” He asked timidly, trying to avert his gaze from her nakedness and the man kneeling between her legs. 

Svetlana sobered up a bit, a smile creeping across her lips as she looked from her assistant to Leon and then back, “I think that’s a perfect idea…” 

Leon sobered up as well as the words processed in his mind, eyes widening in shock and horror. He shook his head when she asked him if he thought that was a good idea as well, asking if he wished for his superiors to see him like this. They would see him and paint him as a traitor no doubt. He wouldn’t get out of this hell if that happened. 

“Do you request a change of clothes and wish to get cleaned up first, Madame President?” Her assistant asked. 

“No need.” Svetlana said in a “matter of factly” tone, “Get the laptop and set up the camera feed right there in front of my desk...and fetch me my toys.” 

The man bowed, asking if she required anything else. Of course she did, telling him to get some “pretty chains and shackles” for their “American Friend”. 

Leon had a feeling he wouldn’t like what she had planned.


End file.
